


Ice Angel

by ArtsyAssassin



Category: King of Fighters
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyAssassin/pseuds/ArtsyAssassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew that she never loved him. He knew that she never would love him. The yearning murmurs of "K'" in her dreams were all he needed to know. Onesided – Rock X Kula : Onesided – K' X Kula</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice Angel

* * *

 

Rock knew that she never loved him.

He knew that when he slipped the golden crest on her finger, one day somewhere on the courtyard. It was the beginning of spring, and the flowers were starting to bloom wherever they may be. Trembling on a bended knee, he tentatively asked for her hand in marriage.

He said nothing when her lips pressed together in an ominous, firm line, and her thin eyebrows furrowed gently, it was such an unusual expression on her angelic face. It hardly seemed natural.

She, in turn, said nothing, her eyes distant and forlorn, as she accepted his proposal, twisting the little circlet on her tiny fingers. It was apparent that in her heart, love for him would not bloom this spring.

The fact became hideously obvious on their wedding day. She was beautiful- as if a Princess - garbed in pure white, as she made her way slowly down the aisle. Her expression was fixed; an unlighted smile on her rosy lips and steely eyes on an otherwise soft and serene face. He could see that she was hopelessly trying to keep it that way. A flash of anguish would always seem to seep through her deep ruby eyes, than vanish once more.

Later at the reception, she treated guests with her usual innocence and bright gaiety. With a glass of champagne in his hand, he watched solemnly as she waltzed effortlessly with all the others and dazzled many with her doll-like beauty. She whirled past him, laughing carelessly and thumped him on the back before joining her friends once more. She laughed and drank far too much.

Rock could vaguely remember seeing a tall dark figure leave the area, a little earlier from the rest.

In the end, Rock spent his wedding night alone with a bottle of whisky and no one bothered to ask about the fine points, had the subject ever come to play.

He remembered the details of when they first slept together vividly. It was late, but Rock was certain that she was awake. Quietly he stole to their room, the cool night air stinging his skin. When he had made his way to the heavy wooden door, he tapped twice in a fluid motion, his heart beating wildly in his ribs. Trembling, he turned the knob. She stood with her back to him, her orange locks cascading freely behind her, bathing in the naked moonlight.

The window was flung wide open, and her thin snowy-white dress billowed in the soft breeze.  
He called her name uncertainly, and she turned to him; her lovely eyes, dark and unfathomable. He closed the distance in two long strides.

Tangled in the sheets beside her, panting and utterly exhausted, but blissfully happy, he began their brief and terrible conversation. Calmly, he asked if he was her first.

The silence was piercing and it wasn't after a few dreadfully long breaths, that he got what he wished to be answered.

"No," she said. It was blunt, like the edge of a dulled sword.

And though he had already suspected the truth, the blow was still painful and cut at his heart like a thousand daggers. With poorly concealed bitterness, he asked for his name.

 _"K'…"_ she whispered, ghostly soft as if it would die out in the wind, her voice tenderly caressing the illicit lover's name. Her eyes had so much life, and if just for a moment her true self had appeared once more.

He lay beside her now, watching her sleep, her bareness covered by an unusually thin sheet. She was radiantly beautiful, her elegant hair fanned out across the silken pillows, glossy with moonlight. Her delicate face was peaceful in sleep, fragile and innocent. She was his Ice Angel. Like angels, she was untouchable, unreachable, unattainable in life.

Cautiously, he extended a calloused hand to her angel face- _just a touch_ , he thought. _Only a touch_ \- his heart beating a wild melody in his chest, so loud he was certain it would wake her from her peaceful slumber. He paused, his fingers centimeters from her exquisite cheekbone, when she breathed an incoherent name.

His mouth formed a grim line, and withdrew his arm.

 _ **Him!**_ Always him!

Him as her first love was understandable; but even now, five years later, she still loved him. K', the dark hero.

She thought of him whenever they sat together, wishing it were her beloved savior sitting next to her instead of him. She thought of K' whenever they kissed, dreaming it was his masculine lips over hers. She thought of K' whenever they had sex, visioning it was him who was touching her in all those lustful places. Inwardly moaning, his name in her mind and not her husbands. Pretending it was his arms that she lay in, instead of Rocks.

K'. Always K.

It was like having three in a bed when there should only be two, Rock thought indignantly.

His thoughts were interrupted as she snuggled up against his naked form, and her fingers curled around his muscular arm.

"K'…" she breathed again, soft as a kittens breath.

Rock's heart wretched, as if Kula had physically grabbed it with her small hands and was attempting to sever it from his chest. Tearing himself from her grasp, he sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

"Rock?"

The satin sheets rustled as she sat up. His muscles tensed as she rested a warm hand on his broad shoulders. He did not turn to face her.

"Rock, what's wrong?" she asked quietly, her voice thick with sleep.

"Nothing," He said softly "Go back to bed."

"You can tell me," she insisted, her melodic voice becoming clearer.

"It's nothing, Kula," he told her "I promise."

_How could he be more wrong…_

 

* * *

 


End file.
